Sailors And Salesmen

• Robin Bedward, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2015

“LAND AHOY!” The lookout’s call echoed across the salty air. Excited sailors ran up from the rooms below and slipped over on the polished deck. But they quickly pulled themselves upright with mutinous mutters about cleanliness and how nobody actually needed it.
“Finally! Land!” said Quartermaster Grant. “I can’t believe we’ve actually been searching for some foreign and exotic shore for all these days just because used too much polish on the deck. Our supplies are exhausted!”
“IT’S A PORT! IT’S A PORT!” the crew bellowed over Grant, who quickly seized control of the chaotic situation.
“STEADY THE GANG PLANK! ALL HANDS ON DECK!” he yelled. “GET UP HERE, YOU BUNCH OF SLEEPYHEADS! No, Captain, I’m wasn’t talking to you...GET UP HERE, YOU UNTRAINED SAILORS, OR I’ll HAVE YOU MOP OUT THE HOLD!”
“Do stop yelling, Quartermaster Grant,” the groggy Captain said, clambering up the stairs. Grant blushed. “Now,” the captain continued. “I know it’s about time we arrived at a port, but stop doing those unearthly jigs. You’re getting on my nerves. So put away that disco ball, Weatheral. What? Your name is spelt wrong here? Well, that’s the author’s fault, not mine.”
The Captain went to talk to Grant, and the crew started to chat to one another.
“I’ll buy the A.C.D.C Greatest Hits CD!”
“Wow! I can actually purchase some decent food!”
“I’ll buy a-HEY!!!! WHAT’S HAPPENING???!!!” The man at the wheel had joined in the conversation, resulting in the ship “landing” altogether a bit too literally.
As the startled men abandoned their half-wrecked ship, a squad of people wearing navy-like uniforms marched in perfect timing towards them. They came to a halt and stood to attention. Their leader strode towards the Captain
and Grant.
“I’m Lt. Hugo Williams of the ‘Port Authorities’. Next time, land properly. We’re charging you a total of $ 9999,999 as you broke law No.7 of ‘The Restriction of Lawbreaking’(see thingy and 12443214556434565....is that what it’s called?”
Meanwhile, the crew slipped off to visit the shop-lined streets.
“Wow! LEGO bricks composed entirely of sea salt!”
“Pirates of the Caribbean monopoly...with instructions by Johnny DEBT!”
ECT.
Suddenly, a series of loud crashes erupted from the dock. The port police ran as fast as they could around the corner(still in time). Hugo William’s gun was in his hand, but it wasn’t smoking. The crew ran up to their ship. The Captain had fired the ship’s cannons.
“Only way to get rid of the cops!” explained Grant. They set sail before the ‘cops’ returned. After they were days away from the port, the eager crew scrambled below decks to examine their purchases. But wherever they looked, there was nothing. Then they remembered: they had all dropped their so called ‘treasures’ when the ferocious crashing and booming had begun. Gloomily, they climbed up above decks again. So they all started looking out for land for another whole day.
And another.
And another.



THE END